


Breathtaking

by TheWeirdDane



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Breathplay, Daddy Kink, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Strangulation, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 10:11:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5739730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWeirdDane/pseuds/TheWeirdDane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Rhys have a bit of a rivalry going on. Rhys insists that he knows what he's doing, but Jack doesn't agree, so he takes over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathtaking

**Author's Note:**

> Originally an idea I had to torture my partner; they fell in love with Rhack (and Jack, seperately) in 0.5 seconds, so this is a little something for them. And babe, consider it an anniversary present.  
> I have not seen LP's of or played Borderlands myself, so I apologize for any mistakes and errors.

Normally, words came quite easy for you. You were well-spoken both at work and at home, and you always knew just what to say. If you ever stumbled over your words, something was either very wrong, or very right, or you had just woken up.

Right now, there certainly was nothing wrong, and you had been awake for quite some time, although you _were_ starting to wonder if you were just dreaming.

One man was on top of you as well as _inside_ you, and he was ripping rough, sharp moans from your throat as he slid deep inside with each snap of his hips. His brown hair was disheveled and his face had taken a crimson hue. Sharp gasps left his lips every few seconds.

The only other sound in the room was the occasional snicker from the other man a few meters from you.

He was sitting quite comfortably in his chair, one leg resting on the other knee and his arm on his leg, chin in his hand as he watched you have your fun with Rhys.

He had been making snide comments about Rhys’ performance throughout the session, and while you had _no_ problem with what Rhys was doing, your companion didn’t seem to find them amusing.

For every comment, he seemed to try harder to live up to Jack’s expectations, and for every comment, your breath hitched in your throat. Being watched by Handsome Jack and basically have him instruct Rhys how to fuck you seemed so surreal, but was _so_ good.

Rhys had started out gentle. His hands cupping your face as he kissed you tenderly and held you close, slowly moving you to the bed where he pushed you on your back (which was, coincidentally, when time seemed to stop) and started undressing you. His hands were quick and gentle, but occasionally, they got rough and the sounds you made from this got him more eager and giddy.

He was adorable, in his own dorky way.

“Come on, Rhysie, you’re losing focus,” Jack chirped and tapped his rough fingers against the mask impatiently. Rhys groaned in response but continued his firm pace without skipping a beat, both hands braced on either side of your head so he could see every face you pulled, could see each moan leave your lips before he could hear it.

“You wanna be rough, kiddo, let ‘er know who’s in charge. It really ought to be m-”

“Think I’m not good enough?” Rhys finally grunted and, with what seemed to require the biggest amount of self-control, stopped moving to send a murderous look in Jack’s direction. “Show me how it’s done, then.”

“N-no no no,” you tried to protest, ready to do about anything to get Rhys to continue; it felt too good to stop, “please-“

“Stop talking, sweetcheeks,” Jack purred and more or less pushed Rhys away to take his place. From where he stood between your legs, he looked even taller and more muscular than he was, his naked chest broad and his grin wide enough to flash teeth.

He looked dangerous, and it sent a chill down your spine, knowing what he could do to you as easy as nothing.

“I’ll show you how it’s supposed to be, hmm?”

Without really thinking about it, you nodded and bit your lip, preparing for Jack to push in. It was no secret that Jack didn’t only have a big ego, but also a big cock – and he actually knew how to use it.

He leaned over you, his wide frame covering your smaller body, and rubbed your pussy firmly, fingertips going up and down the smooth, wet folds. A sharp and keen sound escaped your lips and made Jack grin even wider as he moved his fingers to your entrance and probed around for a few seconds before pushing two fingers firmly in, relishing in the grunt you made.

“Hmm, my little Rhysie somehow managed to get you very wet,” he purred against your cheek and started thrusting his fingers hard and fast in you, each thrust deep enough that his knuckles pushed against you. “Guess you’re ready for some more… professional treatment.”

‘Oh dear god, what is he up to?’ you asked yourself, shiver after shiver running through your body, as he withdrew his now slick and warm fingers and somehow managed to snap them perfectly to get Rhys’ attention.

“Come over here, kitten,” he demanded, voice rougher than usual, and waited for Rhys to come closer before extending his hand and give his next command.

“Now lick.”

Silence.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Lick,” Jack repeated and tore his eyes off you to look at Rhys.

Rhys blinked a few times, looking from Jack to you before hesitantly leaning to take one of the slick fingers in his mouth with a soft sound. Jack’s grin returned to his face and he used his other hand to guide his cock to your entrance, pushing hard in with a shaky grunt. You moaned sharply in response and arched your back at the sudden penetration before you hooked your legs around Jack’s waist.

Definitely bigger than Rhys.

“F-fuck,” you groaned and bit your lower lip, fingers trembling as you reached to grab Jack’s arms firmly, and Jack looked back at you with a mocking laugh.

Rhys grabbed Jack’s wrist gently and moved the fingers further in his mouth, sucking them firmly and with soft sounds not far from moans, occasionally rubbing his tongue against the digits until Jack pulled them back again and leaned up over you, eyes locked with yours.

“Now, what do you want, pumpkin?”

The sultry voice and nickname made your stomach tug almost painfully, and you did your best to conceal just what it did to you. But somehow, you had a feeling that Jack knew all too well.

“F-fuck me,” you croaked and felt the blush creep over your face.

Jack merely cocked an eyebrow and stopped thrusting.

“Forgetting our names, aren’t we? I said,” he reached to place both hands on your throat, “what do you want, _pumpkin_?” He tightened his fingers, putting pressure on your windpipe and laughed mockingly at the sharp moan it elicited.

“F-fuck me, D-daddy,” you practically whimpered, eyes closing slightly from the shudder running through your body.

You weren’t the only one getting affected by what was going on; Rhys’ breathing had definitely gotten heavier over the last few minutes.

“That’s much better,” Jack cooed and stroked the windpipe almost affectionately with his thumbs before pressing on it firmly, simultaneously pulling out before pushing hard inside you again, moaning lowly at the  tight feeling of your pussy clenching around him.

Each thrust had your body jerk faintly, and over time, Jack’s grip of your throat tightened until it was hard to breathe. Each breath was a struggle, and each breath came out raspy, perfectly covering Jack’s own sharp moans and grunts.

Jack’s pace was hard and fast, and his cock slammed deep inside you with each thrust, making you gasp raggedly. It was painful, but in all the right ways, and it made you feel oh so full, like you could burst from the pleasure any second.

But Jack knew. And Jack never gave in too early.

“You want it, don’t you?” he teased and tipped your head backwards with his thumbs before tightening the grip even more, forcing you to actually struggle to get any air at all to your lungs. With your eyes closed, you couldn’t see Jack’s face, but you _knew_ that he was grinning from ear to ear, and from the slight damp on his hands, you could feel that he was _very_ excited. Possibly almost as much as you.

“D-daddy,” you whined lowly and arched your back against Jack’s much firmer and broader figure, the warmth radiating off him.

“You want the burn in your lungs,” he leaned closer, cold lips brushing against yours as he whispered, each word a sharp contrast to the aggressive pace in which he fucked you, “you want the dizziness, the trembling.”

He was not wrong – it felt so fucking good. The way the fire spread throughout your body, the lungs screaming for air, body jerking and your pussy seemingly getting wetter and wetter with each rough thrust. Your moans and gasps were cut down to raspy, guttural sounds as you were continuously denied enough air, but just enough that everything Jack did to you was taken to another level.

Everything was kind of foggy and blurry at the edges. The blood was thundering in your ears. Eyes fluttering and fingers twitching every now and then, automatically trying to hold onto Jack’s arms but failing almost every time.

It was too much, getting too intense. You reached to grab Jack’s wrists and tug them, but weren’t strong enough. Your fingers were trembling, and no matter how much you tried to focus, you seemed to have lost the control of them.

You made a weak, guttural sound and tried to get Jack to let go, but it was no use – the grip was tight and Jack was strong.

His fingers dug further into your neck and finally made it impossible to breathe. You looked up at him as if through thick glass, mouth hanging slightly open and unresponsive to his lips pressing against yours, and the pain from the tightness of his hands was gone. There was only the madly grinning face, the painfully tight coil in your lower stomach and the faintest moans that could be heard over your own desperate heart.

Your vision started to fail you, blackening at the edges at the same time your legs slid down from Jack’s waist and limply unto the bed. Not two seconds after, your hands followed suit, and it was a struggle to stay conscious, but oh fuck, the way every nerve ending was on fire was the best high you had ever tried.

Everything could happen now. Jack could kill you in a matter of seconds. He was the one in charge, always the boss.

And then it came.

The painful release that had your body arching off the bed and press against Jack as you, only semi-conscious, forced out a sound as warmth flooded your body and had every muscle contract painfully as the orgasm rolled through you.

It lasted for what seemed like minutes, and somewhere along the way, you felt Jack’s body stiffen as well, his fingers gripping your throat tight enough that you actually blacked out for a few seconds until he slacked the grip enough to let you breathe again.

The first inhale was painful, almost as much as the strangulation itself. You coughed from the sudden amount of air. Your eyes closed and your hands dropped down on the bed with a soft _thud_. Jack’s forehead was leaning against your shoulder as he trembled and moaned from his own orgasm. You couldn’t feel your fingers. Or, you could, but it was only a vague, prickling sensation.

It took around a minute before you realized that someone was stroking your hair. Soft, warm hands. Tender. Careful in every touch.

Rhys.

Of course.

You smiled weakly and tried lifting a hand to stroke his cheek, but it was no use. You were still too weak.

 After a little while, Jack pulled back and ran a hand through his dark-brown hair to put it back in place. Then he flashed a grin.

“Those bruises fit you nicely, sweetcheeks,” he purred softly and leaned to kiss you deeply. A shudder ran through your body and made you give a soft sound against his lips. Above you, Rhys chuckled and continued stroking your hair soothingly.

It still felt like the world was vaguely spinning, but it didn’t matter. You could practically _feel_ the bruise already forming on your throat, and the thought alone – although the lack of air could also be at fault – made you giggle and force yourself to stroke both men’s cheeks affectionately.

“Thank you, Daddy.”


End file.
